


Playing The Game: Act II – Knights & Knowledge, Romance & Regret

by afteriwake



Series: Just Pieces On The Board [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Antoine Triplett Lives, Assassin Mary Morstan, Awesome Molly Hooper, BAMF Molly Hooper, Bisexual Molly Hooper, Carter family, Consulting Jobs, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drinking & Talking, Elevator Sex, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Lineage & Legacies, Mary Lives, Molly Hooper & Melinda May Friendship, Molly Hooper & Phil Coulson Friendship, Molly Was a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, Molly vs Ward, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Molly Hooper, Past Molly Hooper/Victoria Hand, Poor Molly, Reunions, Spies & Secret Agents, Vodka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-12 21:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10499898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: After tracking down Phil Coulson and his team, Molly and the others join him on their hunt for Grant Ward so that Molly can get retribution for Victoria’s death and Nat and Clint can further Fury’s assignment to help deal with all of the escapees from the Fridge. But as things get more complicated with the appearance of the Diviner and all the entails, Molly begins to wonder if she will ever get her end goal of Ward disappearing in a deep dark hole where no one can find him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sideofrawr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sideofrawr/gifts).



> So after my dear friend **sideofrawr** got me season 2 of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. for my birthday (and after I reread the first fic in this series tonight), I decided to give the sequel a stab. I decided since there are obviously going to be changes and it's no longer going to be AoS compliant, I might as well make changes to stuff I knew I wasn't going to like. I'm slowly working my way through season 2 so updates may be slow, but this will cover the arc up to where Tripp died in canon (which I am so not doing in this fic).

This was their last hope, really. S.H.I.E.L.D. was a name dared not uttered these days, and Mycroft was at the end of resources he could give them without this becoming an official matter of the British government. Mary had used up most of her favours in the days after S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen, and so now they were reliant on what Natasha and Sherlock could muster up with the meager help of those on the grey edges of Mycroft’s government contacts. Molly knew burning up favours just to find Phil and his team would leave them shorthanded if an emergency arose, but finding them was first and foremost on the list to see if he even _wanted_ their help, much less needed it.

It had been a month after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and they had traveled to damn near every continent on the planet, short of Antarctica, in search of the elusive team. She herself had tried reaching out to Leo and Jemma, just to see if they didn’t even need to use any favours, but had gotten nothing but static. This was not good. And as she hit the punching bag with everything she had, she knew they would either use up all the capital they had or…

 _Or you won’t be wanted. Won’t be needed. No one will care you want Ward to rot in a hole because of Victoria. They have their own hurts. They won’t care about what Victoria meant to you,_ the taunting voice inside her head that had been getting progressively louder said, coming to the forefront, and she countered with another pass at the bag, remembering everything Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader had taught her.

Damn Phil if he didn’t want her help, to be honest. She’d take what little help she could muster and find Ward on her own. And she _wouldn’t_ hand him over to Phil if he didn’t need her. Ward would go to Maria and then Maria could…

 _But Maria isn’t with S.H.I.E.L.D., remember?_ the voice mocked. _She went with Stark, to the nice job there. That guarantee of the hole to rot in is no good. You may have to--_

“No!” She shouted, jabbing at the bag. She wouldn’t break her rule. She hadn’t done it to the bastard who had gone after her father, she hadn’t let her grandmother kill him, either, and she wasn’t about to do it with Ward. If she wouldn’t kill over family, she wouldn’t kill over Victoria. She wouldn’t break that vow over anybody.

She heard the door to the hotel’s training center open and saw Sherlock standing there, dressed in casual clothing, silently asking if it was alright to join her. She nodded and he came closer, like he knew just what she needed.

 _Yes, you would,_ the mocking voice said, and she knew she would be hard pressed to argue with it at the moment. She loved this man more than she had thought possible, more than she had imagined she ever could before they had left London. If he had seen a different side of her after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and all of this, she was seeing a different side of him as well, ever since the first night in Clint’s suite, when she told the story of what had happened to her father and why she had left S.H.I.E.L.D., when they had gone to their own suite and she had kissed him, the kiss that had gone so dangerously close to being more than just a kiss. The night she knew that she loved Sherlock more than she had loved Tom and she was fooling herself if she thought when all this was over she could go back to him in London and still treat Sherlock as just her friend.

She might, under the circumstances, kill for Sherlock. Might. It would depend on the circumstances, but she could see herself doing it. And she knew he would, in turn, do the same for her.

She moved away from the punching back and went to the area where anyone could spar. It was easy to spar with Sherlock; he never held back, never treated her as though she was fragile, but he was still careful. She would be hurt at the end of their sessions, and she knew she had hurt him, but they would usually go back to wherever they were staying and take Clint’s jar of muscle rub and massage the ointment into the parts that hurt. It usually wasn’t much later that the rest of their clothing was gone and their lips found each other and they were working up a whole different type of sweat. It had just seemed so...natural and simple and she wondered why they hadn’t told each other the truth before.

 _Because your life was full of lies, and it’s only because of Nat you have this,_ the voice said. She shook her head and got into position, taking the first swing at Sherlock, which he expertly blocked before sending a strike to her side. She dodged it and then decided to see if she could do Natasha’s signature move, putting her legs around Sherlock’s neck to bring him to the floor. She used to be good at it, though never as good as Nat, but it had been a long time. He sent out another strike, but she grabbed his hand and then in a series of swift motions she and Sherlock were both down on the mat.

“Effective,” he said as she released her legs and then moved back to sit on her arse.

“Nat was a good teacher,” she said as he sat up and moved closer. After a moment she laid down, knees still bent and then looked up. “What happens if we don’t find Phil and his team, Sherlock?”

After a moment he moved next to her, lying down next to her, their arms touching. “We go back to London. You live your live with my brother pestering you to join MI-6 every week and twice on the weekends.” Molly snorted a laugh at that. “I stop using your flat as a bolt hole and we share that bed of yours on a regular basis. Eventually, we find some semblance of normality like you had, unless that isn’t what you want.”

“And if it isn’t what I want?” she asked, turning to face him as the door opened again.

“Then I go where you go,” he said simply before they heard a cleared throat. Molly pushed herself up to a sitting position and turned to face the door, expecting Mary or Natasha or Clint.

Instead, there stood Phil Coulson, shaking his head with a smirk. “Trust you to get the guy who’s supposed to be a high functioning sociopath all sentimental, Hooper. I swear, you could give an android feelings.”

“Phil!” she said, scrambling to her feet. “Do you realize you’re an impossible bastard to find?”

“When you’re supposed to be dead, it helps,” he said. “Especially when your organization is no longer official. But I think we have some things to talk about, you and me and your team.” He paused. “And you have to tell me how you managed to get Romanov, Barton and the elusive assassin Rosamund under you because I know you’re good, but _wow_. I just managed to get Melinda when I started the team.”

“And Leo and Jemma,” she pointed out. A look crossed Phil’s face, one almost of guilt, and Molly frowned. “Phil?”

“There’s a lot you need to get caught up on,” he said, “and it’s not all good. But if you’re here to help take down HYDRA, I could use the help.”

“Just one member in particular,” Molly said, shaking her head. “And I have the feeling you want him taken down too.”

“Grant Ward?” Phil ventured. Molly nodded. “I almost forgot how close you and Victoria were.”

“Most people do. It wasn’t like we were open about it,” she said.

“You couldn’t be, then,” Phil said. He glanced over to Sherlock. “Does he…?”

“Know that I’m bisexual?” Molly asked. “Yes. And he knows Victoria was my ex-girlfriend. It’s not something I would like the others to know, though. I mean, as far as most of S.H.I.E.L.D. was concerned, we were best friends.”

“It was open knowledge about Victoria, you know,” Phil said.

“But about us?” Molly asked quietly. Phil shook his head. “Then if she died not talking about our relationship, it should stay between the few who knew the truth. But you know why I want Grant Ward to rot. You know what it means to me to make sure her death is avenged.”

Phil nodded. “Which is why your team is part of S.H.I.E.L.D. as long as it takes to take the bastard down,” he said. Molly felt a weight taken off of her shoulders. “Get dressed and go up to Natasha’s suite. She’s usually got Stoli, right?”

“She has some,” Molly said with a nod, and with that Phil turned around and left. A moment later Molly felt Sherlock come to her side and take her hand in his. “I suppose that life in London is going to have to wait a bit.”

“Just as well,” he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss in her hair. “I didn’t want to have to deal with my brother that much anyway.” Molly grinned a bit at that and the two of them headed towards the exit to go to the room. There wouldn’t be a chance to work up a sweat today, but there was forward movement on the mission. This was almost worth the loss of the moment of bliss.


	2. Chapter 2

Molly and Sherlock had missed the reunion between Phil, Natasha and Clint as well as the introduction of Mary and Phil, but they all seemed to be getting along well by the time the two of them joined them in Natasha’s suite. Molly had honestly been surprised Tony Stark hadn’t asked questions about why they were traveling around the world in a group when he could have pried into it, and yet he kept footing the bills for their rooms and said nothing. That had been one thing she had been quite thankful in the last month but it left her wondering if she’d owe a debt of some sort or if it would settle on Nat and Clint’s shoulders.

“He already made me break out the Stoli, Molly,” Nat said, gesturing to the bottle on the table. Molly wasn’t really in the mood to imbibe; Lord knew she had been doing too much of it since the days spent in DC, and the longer it had taken to find Phil the more nights had spent between the five of them with a bottle of liquor trying to come up with ideas of where to go or who to reach out to. The mood now seemed more celebratory, though still solemn, and it almost felt wrong not to have at least one shot. They’d found him and they could help. Nat and Clint had someone to report to to go after those who had escaped from the Fridge and resources to do so, and she had the backing of someone to find Grant Ward.

She had been doing her research, as her political capital had been almost completely spent trying to salvage things for Queen and country. While the others had been on the hunt for the elusive remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D. she had learned all she could about the enemy she was hunting. What she got, mostly, from ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who still couldn’t believe he'd turned traitor, were stories of what a good man he was, of what a good agent he was.

So she dug deeper, and the more she dug the more roadblocks she hit.

Someone had done a good job of covering up exactly how he had become part of HYDRA, about how he had been indoctrinated. From what little she could piece together, it had been Garrett himself who had done it, and supposedly by taking him into his custody, he’d saved him from some worse fate. She had known one side of Garrett and knew that people would be loyal to him, do anything to help him. If Garrett had done just the barest minimum to help Grant, he’d have had Grant’s implicit loyalty.

But she’d grown up hearing stories of HYDRA scum on her summer visits to her grandmum’s. She knew it had to have gone deeper than that. Captain Rogers wasn’t an option to see if he knew anything at all, though she doubted he did. He was gone, looking for wherever The Winter Soldier had gone. There was always Sharon, but after breaking her nose she doubted her cousin would be the least bit inclined to help. So all that was left were those Grant had betrayed: Phil and his team. Her team as well now, if they’d accept her.

Once her glass was full, she fingered it for a moment as she looked at everyone. Phil was the first to raise his glass, and soon they all did. “To your successful mission,” he said, and they clinked their glasses together and took the shots. She doubted she would have more so she set her glass down and then settled on the sofa against Sherlock, looking at Phil as he stood. Away from any of the windows, she had noticed. The five of them had reasons to be paranoid, she knew; he probably had more so. “I was actually going to send someone to take you out until I realized Romanov and Barton and Hooper were looking for me with you, Rosamund,” he said, looking at Mary. “All in the name of trying to keep a low profile of course.”

“Of course,” Mary said, tilting her head with a grin. “Would have been fun to watch them try. And I told you, it’s Mary now. Mary Morstan.”

Phil shook his head. “Going to take some getting used to,” he said. “Anyway, I had heard there was feelers from some bigwig in the British government and some contacts his brother had who’d helped bring down James Moriarty’s network...” He trailed off for a moment. “By the way, Sherlock, I really want to chat about how you did that.” Sherlock nodded. “Romanov, you need to tell your contacts to actually _mention_ your name. You guys would have found me two weeks ago otherwise.”

“I’m trying to put the Black Widow behind me, as much as I can,” she said, reaching for the bottle.

“Well, Fury said he needs Hawkeye and the Black Widow to help me restock the Fridge. His words, not mine. I think he was trying to be funny.” Phil shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like he succeeded. So you two are going to go off and do your own thing with intel from my group and report back to the base when you need to. But keep the Avengers out of it. Stark...if you _have_ to tell him to keep funding for the rooms, do it, but--”

“So far he hasn’t asked any questions,” Clint said. “I doubt he will in the future.”

“I know Stark, though,” Phil said. “Eventually he’ll get curious, and it’s going to gnaw at him, and he’s going to dig. If you have to cut him off, tell him S.H.I.E.L.D. is underground and you’re still associated. _Don’t_ tell him I’m alive.”

“You want the pleasure of popping up from a grave yourself or something?” Clint asked with a smirk.

Phil glared. “No. If he needs to know then I’ll tell him in a way that won’t send that shrapnel through his heart any more than it already is. But _I’ll_ tell him. Not you two.” After a moment he sat on the arm of the chair that Natasha was sitting in. “Things have happened since S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and it went underground. It’s not _completely_ underground, first off. The government is aware of us. There are factions that want us gone for good, like General Talbot, but for the moment we’re more or less let be. We screw up too badly, though, and it’s game over. We all go to jail, never to see the light of day again.”

“Except us,” Sherlock said.

Phil nodded. “Right. The three of you, in what I understand was brilliant politicking from Hooper, managed to get immunity for whatever you do no matter where you are.”

“God bless the Queen,” Mary said with a grin, picking up the bottle of vodka once Natasha had finished pouring a second shot and setting it back on the table.

“That’s as long as you are not officially S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Phil said. “So you are attached to the team but not actually _on_ the team. We’ll think of you as...” He looked over at Sherlock and grinned. “Consultants.”

Sherlock grunted out a laugh at that. “You won’t have much use for a detective.”

“A regular detective? No. A consulting detective who dismantled a criminal empire that I know S.H.I.E.L.D. was going after for years? Oh, trust me, we’ll find a use for you.” His grin dimmed after a moment. “Right now, the team is a bit shorthanded. Grant did more damage than just murdering Victoria, though I know that’s a personal matter to Hooper. He also hurt kidnapped a member of my team and then ended up keeping two members hostage underwater for a time, and one of them has brain damage from the encounter. Right now, because of that, Fitz is not at his full capacity.”

“Leo?” Molly asked, jerking forward, her voice anguished. Oh, now she had even more reason to hurt the bastard. Phil nodded, and she balled her hands into fists. After a moment Sherlock pulled her back against him and she shut her eyes. “Is he going to be alright?”

“We hope,” Phil said. “It looks promising, though.” He clasped his hands together. “Hope you haven’t gotten too used to opulent digs because we don’t have anything this nice where we have to go. But we _do_ have at least one other old friend who’s waiting to see you, Hooper.”

“Who?” she asked curiously.

“Antoine Triplett. He found out you were back in the game, even if it was just temporary, and he said he was happy his favorite pen pal was going to be in the same space with him again after all these years.”

She gave him a small smile at that. She and Antoine had gotten along quite well when they were children, even though she was older than him, because they both understood it was important they were a legacy and they wanted to continue it. She’d written to him to years but they had lost contact after she had left S.H.I.E.L.D. so it would be quite nice to see him and at least be able to reminisce a little bit. “I look forward to it.”

“Good. Get a good night’s rest, everyone. We’re leaving at 0600.”

“You might as well stay, Coulson,” Natasha said. “I get the feeling we have some more things to go over and there’s a bottle of vodka here that isn’t going to drink itself.”

“Well, I’m going to enjoy sleep in a nice, comfortable bed while I can,” Mary said, standing up. “I’ll be ready in the morning.”

“We’ll go too,” Molly said, standing up. Sherlock stood up a moment later. “We can always talk more later, if there’s time.”

Phil nodded. “I hope so,” he said.

The three of them left Natasha’s suite and made their way to the lift. Mary looked over to the two of them, giving Molly a searching look. “Are you alright, love?”

“I suppose,” she said, reaching over for Sherlock’s hand. “It’s all a bit much to take in. I mean, Leo is injured and we could have saved so much trouble if we’d done things just a _smidge_ differently. And he was going to send someone after you!”

“Oh, anyone he sent wouldn’t have stood a chance, not between Natasha and I,” Mary said with a shrug. “And if they were _smart_ , they would have gone straight back to Coulson with their tails between their legs, licking their wounds and letting them know Natasha helped inflict them and the first attempt would have been the last one.” She paused. “Or at least the survivors would have gone back. I mean, if...” She trailed off and then waved a hand. “Shop talk. Look, you need rest. Or a good shag. Sherlock can oblige with the latter. But get your mind off the bad news for at least a bit.”

Molly shook her head, grinning despite herself. She knew Mary was right; she needed to get her mind off the sudden dump of information that had been dropped on her. “And what are your plans?”

“Long chat with my fiancee via webcam,” she said with a smile. “The date’s on hold, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make _some_ wedding plans. And I miss him, I suppose.”

“Mary, you don’t need to stay,” Molly said, reaching over to touch her arm. “You aren’t S.H.I.E.L.D. This isn’t your mess.”

“You’re right. This isn’t my mess. But it’s _your_ mess and I’m your friend and I have a skill set that can help so I’m staying until you don’t need me. John and I will be fine, Molly. To be honest, it’s nice being back in the game a bit. I mean, the spy bits. I didn’t do that as much as the assassination part, but it’s rather interesting. I’ll help however Coulson needs me, if he needs me, but I’ll stay until _you_ go home. The three of us, we stick this out together, alright?”

Molly looked over to Sherlock who nodded. “Where you go, we go,” he said.

“Alright,” she said, leaning into him as they got to the lift. They pressed the button to go up to their floor and once the doors opened they stepped inside and each pressed their separate floor rooms. Mary got off first, giving Molly and Sherlock a quick hug together before she left, and then the doors closed behind her. It was when they were finally alone that the strength Molly had had seemed to seep out of her, and she sagged against Sherlock more. “This is going to be interesting,” she said, letting go of his hand and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“We’ll make it through,” he said.

“I keep feeling as though I’m about to step into a hornet’s nest. I mean, I know at least four people on the team, but Leo is injured and if I know Jemma, she’ll be constantly worrying about him. And if we go, I may end up in the field again. There’s always the chance I’ll be needed, that Phil will ask. Even though we’ll be considered consultants...”

“You and Mary have unique skill sets that would be of use to him,” Sherlock said, embracing her. “He would be foolish not to put them to use when they are of the best use.” He set his chin on top of her head. “Do you _want_ to resume field work?”

“I do, but I don’t,” she said. “I miss the thrill of it, but I also worry that something will happen. I’ll get injured or worse, I’ll get killed.” She could feel him tighten his embrace at her words and she pulled away slightly to look up at him. “I don’t want anything like that to happen.”

“I would be worried, but I have heard stories and seen you train,” he said. “I have faith you would come back to me just fine.”

She nodded and then leaned in to kiss him, intending to keep the kiss soft, but it quickly became anything but. When he hit the emergency stop on the elevator and reached between them to undo the button of her trousers she knew this was something they shouldn’t do, that they were probably being watched and dear Lord, Phil and everyone else were just floors below them but she didn’t care. Right now, she needed him as much as he needed her and it didn’t matter that they weren’t in their room. There were moments with Sherlock she didn’t think clearly and she knew that could cause trouble in the future, but that was the future and the present was so much more satisfying to think about.


	3. Chapter 3

She was honestly surprised Lola was out and about because a bright red convertible tends to stick out in minds and when you’re supposed to be dead it’s good not to stick out like a sore thumb. But Phil said there was cloaking on it and the four of them would be just fine. Nat and Clint had stayed at the hotel, saying they were going to head out in search of the first escapee from the Fridge Coulson had managed to track down and they wanted a late start. Knowing them as well as she did, Molly just assumed Clint wanted to stuff his face at the breakfast bar and Nat was enjoying sleeping naked under very expensive sheets.

But they had been up when the Brits had left, with Nat giving some of the better-powered tech that Mary had been eyeing to her and slipping a piece of paper with what she imagined was an encrypted email address on it to Molly. Phone calls would be risky, but as they had started this together, there were things Nat could tell her that she could filter down to Phil if needed. And then there was always personal emails as well, though she doubted Nat showed sentiment much all these years later.

And then the four of them, Mary, Sherlock, Phil and herself, piled into Lola with Mary in the front seat and her and Sherlock in the back. She was disappointed that the top was up but for cloaking purposes, she supposed that was the way it had to be. They drove a long while, stopping off for a night in a seedy motel before getting back into the car and heading into the desert.

She had a vague idea where they were going; her grandmother had complained vehemently when Mr. Stark had wanted to do testing in the desert while he was still alive, and she wasn’t surprised to find that one minute the air outside was suffocatingly hot and then it was a cool and comfortable temperature. Phil turned the cloaking off and lowered the hood. “Stark?” Molly asked.

“No, Tony had nothing to do with this,” Phil said.

She shook her head. “I meant Mr. Stark. I mean, Howard.”

“Ah. Yes, this is technology that he instituted when your grandmother complained to roast him alive with an egg on his head. It’s been around before my time in S.H.I.E.L.D., but I was kind of the unofficial keeper of lore.”

Molly smiled. “Had you gotten to meet my grandmother?”

“Not before...” He trailed off. “But Tripp was telling us all about his childhood adventures with you and Sharon and the others before I left, once we realized it was you who was looking for us.”

“I hope he has some left to share,” Mary said with a smile, adjusting her sunglasses.

“I don’t think he’ll run out any time soon, don’t worry.” Coulson reached down and pressed a button on his mobile phone. “Entering the base with the boxes of tea.”

“Roger,” a voice said in reply.

“Hundreds of years later and your side still wants to rub the tea in our faces,” Molly said.

“Let me have my fun,” Phil said, grinning at her over his shoulder. A minute later they went around a dune and there was a rather technological looking base of operations. “We had a different place but...”

“As long as this place works that’s what’s important,” Sherlock said.

“And it does. It also has one of our top medical facilities, so Jemma and Fitz can be close.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Jemma said she wants tea with you, Molly. I think she wants to prepare you for Fitz.”

Molly nodded. “You can show Sherlock and Mary around. I think it’s about time for a cuppa anyway.”

They all lapsed into silence but Sherlock reached over and squeezed her hand for a long moment before Phil parked Lola ad they all got out. Phil told her how to get to the science area and Molly walked away from the others, her mind whirring about what she was going to encounter.

What she _hadn’t_ expected to see was Melinda May walking towards her. An actual smile, though small, on her face. “Hello, Runt.”

“Mama May,” Molly said, moving more quickly and embracing her old friend.

“Please don’t call me that in mixed company. I try not to live up to that nickname anymore.”

“But you still have ducklings?” Molly asked as they pulled back.

“Unfortunately.” She looked her up and down. “Retirement was good for you.”

“Not really. My reflexes are a bit slower, and I went on three dates with a criminal mastermind without realizing who the hell he was.”

“I slept with Ward.”

Molly made a face. “Then maybe I’m not doing so bad.”

Melinda frowned. “You want Ward...”

“Thrown into a bottomless pit,” she said. “You’re more than welcome to beat the shite out of him first.”

“I just might.” Melinda nodded towards the science building. “Off to see Jemma?”

Molly nodded. “Yeah. How is Fitz?”

“He sees a hallucination of Jemma. And the real Jemma has a hard time coping. I think Phil has a plan for her to see if she can get close to some of the Hydra scum and she may do it. As long as Fitz has his hallucination, I doubt he’ll know she’s gone.”

Molly shut her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not fair.”

“No, but we’ll make Ward pay.” She paused. “If you think Jemma can wait, we can do...something. Tai Chi? Sparring?”

“I appreciate it, but I should go see Jemma, especially if she won’t be here much longer,” Molly said. “But later?”

Melinda nodded. “For you, the offer is always open.” She gave her a single nod and the corner of her mouth quirked up. “You do look good, Molly. That detective of yours...don’t let him go.”

“I won’t.” She moved away from Melinda and then made her way to where she had been told Jemma would be, only to be told she was at the medical center because there had been a change in Fitz’s condition. She moved more quickly on her way there and saw Jemma sitting on a chair outside a room, a cup of something in her hands. “Jemma?”

“Oh, Molly,” Jemma said, her voice shaking, as though she was on the verge of tears. “He blacked out and...”

“He has a brain injury,” Molly said, moving to the seat next to her and placing an arm around her shoulders, squeezing them. “Phil said the medical department here is top notch. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I’m going into the field,” Jemma said. “Undercover to infiltrate a Hydra facility. I wanted to tell him but he’s unconscious and...” She rested her head next to Molly’s. “I leave in a few days. And I want to make sure he’ll be okay.”

“You know I’m a pathologist.”

“Forensic pathologist,” Jemma said.

“Yes, but I still had to go to medical school. I am an actual doctor and with a few updates to my training and a bit of schooling, I could easily go into surgery or some other specialization. I will keep a close eye on him for you, I promise. Will that help?”

“I think it would,” Jemma said.

“Good. Then let’s let him rest and we’ll go somewhere and get you a proper cuppa and we can talk for a while, alright?” Jemma nodded and the two women sat there for a moment as Molly took the cup from Jemma's hands. She had the feeling that there was so much that had happened and was happening that would take some getting used to, but her old friendships seemed to be in good shape, and that was something, at least.


End file.
